


Define 'Selfish'

by armethaumaturgy



Series: Define [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M, one-sided
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-15
Updated: 2015-07-15
Packaged: 2018-04-09 12:51:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4349519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/armethaumaturgy/pseuds/armethaumaturgy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zathrian didn’t doubt the fact that he was selfish. He knew he was, and so he made sure the others didn’t.</p>
<p>When he heard The Iron Bull was called a liar, he laughed wholeheartedly and without restraints, forcing himself not to voice his remark. ‘That makes two of us.’</p>
            </blockquote>





	Define 'Selfish'

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first of the Define series, featuring my male Lavellan, Zathrian. These'll be short one-shots describing the bloom of his and Dorian's relationship.  
> Please enjoy!

Zathrian didn’t doubt the fact that he was selfish. He knew he was, and so he made sure the others didn’t.

When he heard The Iron Bull was called a liar, he laughed wholeheartedly and without restraints, forcing himself not to voice his remark. ‘That makes two of us.’

He always made sure all his companions were all right before even acknowledging his own wounds. Unfortunately, that spanned to his feelings, as well.

He couldn’t deny the attraction he felt towards the one he most definitely shouldn’t have. A Tevinter mage as full of himself as Zathrian was unsure of himself. He should’ve been disgusted with Dorian, but instead he was disgusted with himself.

But that was before he truly knew the man. Dorian was most definitely not what he seemed at first glance. All the gloating and self-praise was just a rouse to cover the fact that he was a man broken by his past, sensitive and scared of what the future held in store for him.

But Zathrian admired him to bits; how he managed to be so open about his preference even in the light of what it brought upon him, how his tongue was always as sharp as the polished blade at the end of his staff, how wittily he regarded everything and everyone around himself.

They were truly opposites, in each sense of the word.

Zathrian couldn’t even flirt without feeling bad about everything. There was no way to increase the population of the Dalish if they were fucking the same sex, after all. The Keeper’s disappointed tone and the little head shake when he admitted to having a crush on another man was, as always, fresh in his mind.

And as such, Zathrian, as selfish as he was despite all that, kept taking Dorian everywhere they went. 'There’s never enough magic,’ was his reasoning, exactly as bullshit as it sounded. He didn’t have an answer when Vivienne asked why he didn’t take Solas or her instead. He had ran away, blabbering about having to read over some papers Josephine and Cullen left in his room. He wasn’t sure how Vivienne reacted, but by the time he even worried about that, he was already inside the room, curled up with his back to the door, chest heaving with the sobs he was failing horribly at repressing.

The papers were sitting on his desk, waiting until he collected himself, reprimanding the outburst with repeated mutters of 'Idiot, idiot, you stupid idiot…’ He didn’t get past the second one before the fatigue of not only the whole day, but the last week caught up, leaving him to fall face first onto the table.

He awoke with a tent in his pants, a fading image of a certain sweaty mage, and tears in his eyes.

Facing Dorian became harder and harder each day, the guilt weighting heavily upon Zathrian’s shoulders. He shouldn’t even have such fantasies involving the Vint.

One day Mother Giselle passed him a letter, saying it is for Dorian. Zathrian was momentarily stunned as to why she gave it to him instead of just giving it to Dorian himself, but then he forged a smile and promised to pass it right away. He was heading to the library anyway.

Dorian didn’t want to go at all after discovering the letter was from his father, but Zathrian knew what it felt like to not be on good terms with his family (not on such a scale like Dorian, of course), and so he convinced Dorian to at least check it out. He even offered his company if Dorian didn’t want to go alone. Of course, he didn’t mention that he wanted to know Dorian’s family. Didn’t want others to know how selfish he was. Right.

That night his whole world was shaken. More than anything, more than how unsupportive his father was to Dorian, the fact that shook Zathrian the most was the fact that Dorian just outright admitted to liking men, like it wasn’t even a big deal. But of course it was a big deal.

He flushed a deep red (he knew because of how feverish he felt) and made himself as small as he could. He didn’t say anything save telling Dorian not to leave before resolving anything as he would definitely feel awful afterwards.

The whole exchange ended rather emotionally, with Dorian’s father begging for forgiveness. Zathrian had left to give them the privacy they deserved. That Dorian deserved.

He spent the night ignoring all of his responsibilities in favor of huddling in his bed, gazing at a wall in hopes of somehow persuading himself to stop this whole charade.

If Dorian liked men, could he have a chance after all? He wished he’d allow himself a moment of his so desired selfishness so he could at least ask the mage. Then again, Dorian probably didn’t like him.

Zathrian sighed.

He wasn’t selfish, and he couldn’t bring himself to be, not if it meant squandering the fragile and sometimes awkward friendship he had with Dorian.

He wished he was.


End file.
